


In Dreams

by lodgedinmythoughts



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Asgard, F/M, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Loss, No interaction between Reader and Steve sorry, Not Thor: Ragnarok (2017) Compliant, POV First Person, Post-Avengers 4, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-19
Updated: 2018-04-19
Packaged: 2019-04-24 21:21:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14363931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lodgedinmythoughts/pseuds/lodgedinmythoughts
Summary: It’s been two years since the epic battle against Thanos, two years since the universe was forever changed. The reader is taking respite on Asgard, where she encounters someone she never thought she’d get to meet again.





	In Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> Listened to the beautiful and dreamy “Diaphanous Dreamcoats” by Silver Maple on repeat (only on Spotify — do go listen if you can!). I don’t know what’s going to happen in Infinity War or the movie that follows, but I do know my heart won’t be able to take it. Won’t be able to take it. At. All. Also, I took some liberties with the Asgardian belief system.

It was abruptly that I woke up. Immediately my gaze landed on the doors leading to the balcony. It was dark but for the warmth of the fire. The crackling in the mantelpiece was the only sound to be heard.

Without any thought, I pulled back the opulent covers and sat up. My feet soon led me to the balcony doors. Upon stepping through them, I was met with the soft Asgardian breeze, so harmless, so innocent. Uncaring of any human or Asgardian affairs, an entity all its own.

I came to a stop at the balustrade, looking out at the city. Even after the catastrophe it had endured, the realm had lost none of its majesty. The stars still shone brightly and under them, the trees swayed and the lakes shone. Artificial lights dotted the foreground and horizon. Also visible were the silhouettes of the mountains which acted as a guard for the many new constructions, several still in the process of being rebuilt. In the distance I could see the Bifrost, destroyed and rebuilt once again, its shimmer singing in tune to the splendor of the stars above. Closer to me was a garden, one of the many the palace had to offer. I hadn’t explored it yet, having chosen instead to traverse the outdoors with trips farther out, closer to the outskirts of the city.

I stared at the garden. And then I turned.

With light steps, I navigated the maze of dimly lit corridors, the torches illuminating the path with an almost eerie glow. I came across no guards as I made my way through the palace. I passed through the doors at the back and made the short trek to the garden. The stars provided enough light to see the scene around me clearly. Bordered by short stone walls, the garden was a square. Bushes and hedges were trimmed immaculately. The flowers whose colors I couldn’t fully discern without daylight seemed to glow even at night. In the middle of the garden stood a tree, whose trunk twisted and curved before it reached the branches. Its flowers, alien and unrecognizable, might have been pink or purple. With an outstretched hand, I lightly brushed my fingers across the flowers sprouting from a low-hanging branch before running a hand along the oddly smooth bark.

I turned and angled my head to look up at the room that was mine for the duration of my stay. What a pretty picture it would make, the view from both here and there. But I was no artist and could never do it justice.

Feeling that familiar ache in my chest and the telltale prickling sensation at the back of my nose, I turned from the view and walked past the tree into a small clearing, gaze ahead. The stars winked at me from the horizon. I held up my thumb and index finger as if I were pinching them. From there, I could take all the stars and fit them in my pocket.

My attention was then captured by a star off to the side, no more special than any other, except it seemed to shimmer a bit more fervently. And it wouldn’t stop. I would occasionally look away but my eyes were always drawn back to that one star. If I didn’t know better, I would’ve thought it was trying to get my attention. That it was calling to me.

I couldn’t have known how long I stood there, captivated by the blanket of lights and colors that streaked across the sky, remnants of old. I wondered if my feet were glued to the ground due in part to the star that kept calling for my attention, the star which should have been nothing out of the ordinary. But its rhythm, its tenacity—it clung to the back of my mind, to my gut, with an intensity I’d felt few times in my life.

I’d woken abruptly earlier. As I stood there, I recalled having dreamt right before waking, but in the way of dreams, of what was to be a mystery, swept away by the conscious mind.

Now, looking at the star in the distance, pulsing every now and then as if to ensure my gaze, I was suddenly bombarded with faint images and whispers. _Stars—a caress of the cheek—a soft smile—tears—a kiss that felt like goodbye—the sensation of a hand clasping mine—_

When it ended, I couldn’t be sure whether my eyes had been open or shut. I rubbed my forehead, unwilling to dwell on what had just happened. I was tired, perhaps. Turning, I left for my room. But not before I spared a final glance at the star.

I went back every night after that. When I found myself having trouble sleeping, I’d pull back the covers and make the trek to the garden. It felt slightly illicit, sneaking around while the rest of Asgard slept. I was initially half-convinced I’d run into guards on the way at some point, but I never did. The more times I went, the more routine it felt, like I’d always done it, even on Earth.

Every night, at the quietest hour, I’d look up at the sky awash in light and land on the one from that first night, the one that shimmered like it would burst if it held back. I’d stay for maybe half an hour, doing nothing but breathing in the air as it beat against the fabric of my nightgown. Then I’d retreat to my room, snuggle into the covers and daydream at night until my eyes closed.

In the mornings, I often joined Thor and Sif for breakfast.

“Looks like someone found the way out of her bedchamber at last,” said Lady Sif before taking a sip from her goblet.

“Yeah, well, looks like you didn’t do a very good job of keeping the food from me if that was your plan,” I said, taking a seat at the table and filling up my plate.

“Of course not,” she said. “We’ve always plenty to offer guests. Isn’t that right, Thor?”

“Indeed,” he said.

“So how do you find your stay in Asgard?” she asked.

“Mm, not quite grand enough for me, I think.” I made a show of glancing around.

“Don’t let anyone else hear you say that,” she said in a mock-whisper. “We Asgardians take great pride in our realm.”

I smiled and dug into my food. After our late breakfast, we ventured into the woods near the palace.

“Asgardian dress suits you well,” Sif said.

“Thank you,” I said, playing with the skirt of my dress. “It’s no wonder you all seem so confident all the time. It’s impossible not to feel regal in this.”

Sif hummed. “I, for one, am of the belief that it is not the garb that constitutes the individual.”

I chuckled, brushing my fingers against the trees as I passed. “We have a similar saying on Earth.”

“That said,” she added with a twinkle in her eye, “it certainly does no harm.”

“On second thought,” I said, “maybe it’s best if humans weren’t privy to the magical effects of these clothes. I don’t think our world could handle any more wars.”

She regarded me curiously. “Do Midgardians retain their propensity for war over trifles? Although, I suppose we’re one to talk.” She glanced at Thor, who trailed behind by several feet.

“Yes, and I suspect we always will. Obviously, though, our technology isn’t as advanced as yours, which might be a good thing in this case.”

She narrowed her eyes and tilted her head. “Curious conversation. From dresses to wars.”

I let out a dry laugh. “After what I’ve seen, I assume anything under the sun could be connected with anything if you tried.”

“You propose a game.”

“Oh—well, sure, why not then?”

“A game, Thor,” she said with a mischievous smile as she turned halfway to address him.

“Aye, I heard.”

Sif looked around at the surrounding trees. “Let’s start with these trees then. With what shall we connect them?”

“Your favorite sword,” said Thor.

She answered quickly. “I cut into one of them by accident a millennium ago when I attempted to best Einar at a duel. Honestly, Thor, how about a challenge for once?”

He chuckled. “I remember that day. Word of that duel spread quicker than wildfire.”

“Who’s Einar?” I asked.

“A suitor of mine when I was barely on the cusp of young adulthood. He repeatedly asked for my hand in courtship, but I was unconcerned with romance. Eventually I grew tired of his persistence and proposed an innocent duel. If I bested him, he was to quit his efforts in courting me; if he defeated me, I would accept one outing with him.”

“Did you win?”

Sif sighed at the same time I heard Thor chuckle. “No. I’d yet to complete my sword training and I’d underestimated his abilities. I accompanied him to a musical concert that same evening. His eyes not only lingered on the bosoms of the servant girls but he also promptly fell asleep once the performance began, that dolt. That was the first and last time I humored him.”

I laughed. “I didn’t expect to learn so much from this game.”

“Well, there you have it. What shall we try to connect next?”

I hummed as we came to a stop at the edge of a large clearing where the daylight shone unfiltered. “Mjolnir and Prague.” At Sif’s bewildered expression, I clarified, “A city on Midgard. The capital of the Czech Republic, a country in Europe.”

“I’ve no idea what you just uttered,” she said.

“I have the answer,” Thor said.

“Well, what is it then?” she asked.

He hesitated. “The answer is Jane Foster.”

The light expression on Sif’s face fell almost imperceptibly.

“Care to elaborate?” I said.

“Well, I’ve flown Jane with Mjolnir multiple times and Prague is where she spent several days during a trip across Europe one summer in between her studies.”

Sif seemed to appraise him for a moment. “Hm. I’ll have to take your word for it.” She turned and continued ahead into the clearing.

“So, what’s the deal with you and Dr. Foster anyway, if you don’t mind my asking?” I asked Thor quietly as we trailed behind.

“It is…complicated. She seems to be constantly occupied, even more so than me, and it is rare we get to communicate. But I intuit neither one of us is willing to abandon all hope of something between us. And Sif…” We looked to where she had settled onto the grass, one leg bent upward and an arm resting on her knee.

“She holds a torch for you,” I said. “Or what I mean is—”

“Aye, I’m familiar with the expression. It’s true, but I’m afraid I don’t hold one in return. She is, however, and always will be a true friend and ally. We grew up together, fought countless battles together.” He glanced out toward the landscape before continuing. “But enough of that matter. We brought you out here to enjoy the bountiful nature of Asgard, not burden you with our personal affairs.” He gave me a quick smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

We soon caught up to Sif, after which we all lounged alongside each other on the grass, basking in the warmth of day, chatting about nothing of consequence. Then, after a tour of the caves and hot springs, we headed back to the palace.

“We should take the horses out for a ride. After an early supper, perhaps,” Thor suggested. “The landscape is something to behold at dusk.”

“You two enjoy it,” Sif said. “I’m afraid I have business to attend to this evening.”

Thor and I exchanged a quick glance but followed her lead nonetheless. After going our separate ways once we reached the palace grounds, I whiled away the rest of the afternoon by exploring the palace, which, while not as big as its predecessor, was no less spectacular. After spending a significant amount of time in the library and astronomy tower, I headed down for supper with Thor.

“Are you still up for taking the horses out?” I asked, spreading butter onto my roll.

“If you are,” he said.

An hour later, we were racing across the vast fields as the daylight waned, sending gleams of pinks and oranges soaring across our vision. The wind whipped at my face as the adrenaline of riding coursed through me. In a carefree display, I found myself laughing as I came to a stop and waited for Thor to catch up.

“You led me to believe you were inexperienced on horseback,” he said as he slowed to a stop beside me.

“And that, Thor, is what we Midgardians commonly refer to as a hustle.”

He smiled affably and looked out at the scenery. I followed his gaze. “It’s beautiful,” I said. “Who would’ve thought I’d ever be in a place like Asgard seeing this.”

“I’m afraid it’s quite easy to take for granted when you’re accustomed to it. On the other hand, I’m sure there are sights equally inspiring of awe on Midgard.”

“Yes. This reminds me a lot of home actually.” I chanced a look at Thor, who still sat gazing out into the dusk, the orange glow illuminating his face.

After tremendous trauma, Asgard had recovered. It had rebuilt. The cyclical nature of the universe had prevailed. All around, people lived on, carrying memories of the past with them as they found new ways to smile, to feel joy. Shattered pieces, like glass, were put back together, never quite the original after its fracture but existing in spite of it.

“Most days I still find it hard to believe I’m responsible for the wellbeing of these people,” said Thor, his voice turned pensive.

“You’re a good leader, Thor.”

He turned to me then, a sad smile on his lips for the briefest of moments. “I wish I could say the arrogance I displayed years ago was just a result of the follies of youth. But it was not so long ago.”

“A lot of things have happened since then.”

“Indeed.”

“People change, as do circumstances.”

“Aye, they do. Still, I cannot say I am fit to rule.”

“And that’s why you are.” Gathering the reins, I said, “Come on.”

Trotting slowly across the fields, we returned to the palace. I bid farewell to my steed with a pat and rub of the neck before a guard appeared to take it away.

“Anything special planned for the evening?” Thor asked.

“Not particularly,” I said. “Probably just going to explore some more, maybe hang out in the library. Even a month here won’t cover that place.”

He chuckled. “I suspect that’s accurate. A word of warning: don’t delve too deep into the book stacks if you can. It would be quite draining on our resources to have to send a search party.”

“Can’t make any promises. And what better way to test the guile of your Einherjar than to send them after a confused human who might’ve accidentally wandered her way into a different realm?”

With an amused shake of the head from Thor, we soon parted ways. I decided on a leisurely stroll around the grounds, dim as it was. The low glow of twilight afforded me a sense of privacy, even though it would’ve been present any other time of day. The effervescent twinkling of creatures similar to fireflies lit the path as I wandered, reminding me of the star I visited every night. Looking up, I sought the point in the sky that beckoned me, but to my surprise, it was nowhere to be found. I searched and searched, even spinning around like it was possible I was just disoriented. It was true that it was earlier than it normally was when I visited the garden, but the surrounding stars still were visible. Taking a moment to breathe, I waited. A sense of something calling to me, a string pulling at my heart.

Nothing.

Bewildered, I retreated indoors, all the while with the distinct feeling of bereavement. I walked to the library on autopilot, ending up in the heart of the massive chamber. It was only when I came to a stop with a hand against the shelves that I realized my breathing was rushed. Looking around, I eventually decided on traversing the aisles until I came upon a small area with a table and armchairs. My hands came up to my face as I took a seat, the soft glow of the room adding to the stillness.

I wasn’t sure how long I stayed there like that. The footsteps I thought were of my imagination turned out to be real. Like a ghost, Sif appeared at some distance ahead, halted as if surprised to find me there. My eyes remained on the floor as she approached.

“This must be the second time I’ve encountered someone this far in.” When I didn’t speak, she took a seat on the arm of the other chair. “What worries you? Has something happened?”

Finding the energy to shake my head, I said, “I don’t think so. Just something unexpected.”

Sif looked at me curiously but didn’t push. “What brings you to the library?”

“I have a mind for some peace and quiet tonight, I guess.”

“Well, in that case,” she said, moving to stand.

“No, please,” I said quickly. “I didn’t mean you have to leave. Please. Stay.”

With furrowed brows, she acquiesced and resumed her previous position, pulling a book from her satchel.

“What is that?” I asked.

“A sight not often seen, me and this,” she said with humor, holding up the book. “It’s a book on Yggdrasil. That’s why I’m here. I thought I’d brush up on my knowledge of the nine realms.”

“I figured you’d already know a lot with all your adventures and travels.”

“I’m familiar with them to the extent to which it is necessary for battle. Not so much the culture and people, I have to say. Something the others often teased me about. I suppose hearing you and Thor speak of Midgard today inspired me to broaden my horizons.”

I watched as she flipped through the pages. “I’m not sure you’ll find anything about Prague in there.”

“No, neither am I,” she said with a sardonic smile. “But it’s a start.”

Twisting around, I considered reaching out for a book, any book, to join her when she spoke again.

“I’m aware it’s obvious.” She continued when I stilled to look at her, her eyes on the pages below. “My feelings for Thor.”

No reply came from my lips.

“There are many advantages to living five thousand years, you know. But the ability to bask in joy for such a long time can be equally as disturbing when you’ve given your heart to someone who doesn’t give theirs in return. I’ve always believed those that love and are loved in return are the luckiest of us all. Regardless of age or origin.” She smirked. “And that is the last of love you’ll ever hear from me.”

“Afraid of others knowing the mighty Lady Sif does indeed have a heart?”

“We all have walls of some sort.”

With those as her last words, she plopped herself fully down onto the chair and we remained in companionable silence, reading to ourselves until our vision grew blurry.

Later that night, when I presumed the rest of the palace to be sleeping, I went to the garden. Sure enough, back in its place, glistening as though in song, was the star. Letting out a breath of relief, I closed my eyes. I let the breeze wash over me as I stood in silence, feeling like I was at the water’s edge, the tide threatening to take me in.

“Perhaps I should have given you the room with the balcony steps which lead directly to the garden.”

With a start, I turned halfway to see the approaching figure of Thor, only slightly less imposing in a dark shawl. He came to a stop next to me, looking down at me when I didn’t respond, and breathed out a curse.

“I did not realize…forgive me for intruding.”

I twisted my brow in confusion. Then I felt the light tickle of a tear sliding off my chin. I quickly wiped at my face.

“Do you wish to be alone?” I could only shake my head. “It does not do to see you cry.”

We stood side by side, staring ahead.

“How did you find me?” I asked.

“Mere happenstance. I was indulging myself with a nightly walk of my own. Hard to sleep sometimes. I was returning to my chambers when I saw you.”

We stood that way for a while longer, Thor’s hands clasped at his front and mine hanging freely at my sides. My eyes were again drawn to that star in the distance.

“Thor.”

He hummed in response.

I pointed a finger. “That star there. The one that twinkles a lot. Do you know what star it is?”

“Ah, I’m afraid as I’m not the one well-learned in the stars, I could not tell you. It’s simply doing what stars do is my answer.”

I didn’t respond for a long moment. “Yes, but—” I looked at him and his eyes met mine with a question. “This probably sounds crazy, but…”

The corner of his lips quirked. “We live in a crazy universe.”

Encouraged by his remark, I continued, “I feel like it’s…calling to me. Somehow. Like it wants my attention. I know it sounds crazy—”

“You feel this with all your being?”

I looked at Thor, slightly taken aback.

“Do you feel a oneness with that star?” he asked, eyes trained on me.

I breathed out, “Yes.” I watched as his eyes softened, his gaze trailing away from mine. “What is it? Does it mean something? I’ve been out here every night just looking at it for no reason.”

Thoughtful expression still on his face, he asked, “Are you at all familiar with the Aesir belief system?”

“Can’t say that I am.”

He pondered his next words. “We believe we are born from the stars. At the end of this life, we may end up in another realm, whether it is Valhalla or Hel, but our essence must return whence it came. They say the night sky is littered with those who’ve passed from one realm to the next. Some merely visit, while others watch over us. They’re known to send messages to loved ones. An unmistakable feeling. I’ve communicated with Fandral and Volstagg and Hogun in such a way before. And my mother.” He met my eye, understanding slowly dawning in mine. “I believe what you see up there is Captain Rogers.”

And in that moment, my heart stopped. My veins grew cold, my senses numbed. Time ceased to exist. I was a shell, a vessel, free-falling with no end in sight.

“It appears he says hello.”

My eyes remained shut with the force of my sobs. It was all I could do.

A gentle hand was placed on my shoulder. “He died just as he lived. Valiantly. There is not one being I know in all the nine realms as honorable and just as Captain Rogers.” A comforting squeeze. “I shall leave you alone.”

The tears came spilling down my cheeks far after he was gone. Gazing at the star in the distance, I ached for it to come closer. “Steve,” I whispered. “Come back to me.” The soft breeze and intermittent twinkling was all the answer I received. “It shouldn’t have been you. It shouldn’t have been you, Steve. We were supposed to…it wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

A cruel cosmic joke. To know Steve was up there and be unable to touch him, to feel him. I wondered how Asgardians found comfort in this or if they resented it as I was quickly beginning to. I wanted to scream, yell, find comfort in the familiar ache of a burning throat. Instead, I collapsed onto my knees, the tears dampening the cloth of my nightgown. I clawed at the grass, uncaring of the dirt beneath my nails. I couldn’t have known what sounds I was making. I fell onto my side, feeling apart from myself.

My breaths grew quiet, my mind still. There I lay, under the Asgardian night sky, my bleary eye fixed on the star above. Watching as it throbbed to the beating of my heart, I remained where I was even as fatigue overcame me.

  


* * *

  


I awoke to the sounds of chirping. Fluttering my eyes open, I was greeted by the calm light of morning. I lay quiet for a while longer, unwilling to move, as if it would’ve broken whatever trance I was in. Then ever so slowly, I sat up and looked around, the soreness in my body ubiquitous.

It was a new day. There was no indication anything out of the ordinary had taken place the night before. Undisturbed was everything but the awareness inside me that was forever changed.

Getting to my feet, I spared a glance at where the star would’ve been. Then I turned and made my way inside, garnering curious looks from the guards and courtiers. I got ready for the day, looking for all the world my usual self. I was to return home that day.

I met Thor and Sif down for breakfast.

“Glad to be getting back?” Sif asked.

I merely shrugged. I could feel Thor’s eyes on me across the table.

“There’s something I’d like to give you before you depart,” Sif said.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Perhaps not, but I want to.”

I nodded and took a bite of my food. After we all finished eating, Sif brought us to the library.

“It’s about Asgard,” she said as she handed me a leather-bound book. “And all its glorious points of interest. In case you ever come back.”

“I can’t take this. This is Asgardian. It’s probably ancient.”

“I assure you, it’s fine. Thor even approved. And I’m sure the people of Asgard wouldn’t mind sparing a single book for someone who fought so valiantly with us.” She put a hand on my arm when I stuttered. “We have copies.”

I spent the rest of the day venturing out into the city alone. I watched the warriors spar, exchanged polite smiles with some Asgardians taking care of household chores outdoors. I passed the shopkeepers, the customers, the children running about and filling the air with their innocent shrieks of joy. I relished the activity, the bustle of life around me.

Afterward, I returned to my room to pack, glancing out through the balcony doors every now and then. When I finished, I stepped out onto the balcony and leaned against the balustrade. Asgard was indeed beautiful. Then with a final look, I turned to leave.

As I shut the door to my erstwhile room, I spotted Thor approaching from the other end of the hall. “Hi there.”

“Hello,” he said as he came to a stop. He hesitated. “Would you mind following me for a second?”

“What for?”

“I’d like to show you something, if that’s alright.”

Looking down, I said, “What about my bags?”

“The guards will see to them.” He nodded at the nearby guards and they sprang into action, collecting my luggage and hauling them away before I could say anything. Thor looked at me expectantly. Confused, I stepped forward to get to his side.

After following his lead through a maze of corridors and stairs, we came to a stop in a small room off to what seemed to be the side of the palace.

“This is the room where we say may goodbye to the dead if we so wish,” Thor said. I let in a small intake of breath. He stepped across the room and opened up a small chest. “Here.” Turning, he carried in his hand a tiny clear orb as if it were made of gold.

“What is it?” I asked after he handed it to me, examining it.

“It is a tradition for Asgardians to release these following someone’s death. All you need to do is empty your thoughts or words into it and it will light up and expand. Then you let go.”

I looked up at Thor, my eyes shining. “Thank you.” He dipped his head solemnly. “Where do I do it?”

“I thought perhaps you could do it at the edge of the Bifrost before you go. Give Steve an Asgardian farewell there.”

I nodded shakily, looking down at the orb. “That sounds perfect.”

Later, I stood near the palace entrance, my bags having been heaved upon the horses by the guards. Sif hugged me tight.

“It has been an honor having you,” she said.

“Thank you so much. I can’t repay you for your kindness.”

With a squeeze of the arm, she smiled and stepped back. I turned to Thor, who sat upon his horse.

“Ready?” he asked.

I nodded and pulled myself up onto my own horse, and with a farewell smile at Sif, rode down the rainbow bridge alongside Thor, the guards and their horses following as evening turned to night. We reached the observatory where Heimdall kept watch, ever staid and constant. After the guards transferred my bags inside, they swiftly departed with their horses back down the bridge.

“I will be inside,” Thor spoke softly, stepping into the observatory. “You remember what to do?”

I nodded and waited for him to disappear from view. Turning to the vast, open space before me, I pulled out the orb from my sack and found the star. Closing my eyes, I poured everything I had into the orb, the only reminder of the outside world the gentle breeze fluttering across my skin. Minutes passed and I opened my eyes, telltale tears rolling down my cheeks. The orb had grown, and I didn’t think I’d ever seen a light so pure.

With my eyes on the star and a hitch in my breath, I let go.

I watched as it floated, higher and higher through the open air like it knew exactly where to go. And with a jolt, my mind’s eye was taken aback by a flash of images.

_Stars—a caress of the cheek—a soft smile—tears—a kiss that felt like goodbye—the sensation of a hand clasping mine—_

I opened my eyes and whispered. “Goodbye, Steve.”

When the orb ascended until it became indistinguishable from the stars for which it aimed, I gave one last smile and turned.

Thor and Heimdall stood with their backs to me, the pair of them stoic and unmoving. My footsteps alerted Thor, who turned and studied me.

“I’m ready.” I stepped closer until I was right before him. “Thank you, Thor. For everything.”

He simply laid a hand on my shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze. I moved to the edge of the portal where my bags sat. Taking them in hand, I nodded at Heimdall. “Thank you, Heimdall.” The gatekeeper nodded in return, the knowing look in his golden eyes ever-present. I braced myself for the journey and looked at Thor. “Bye, Thor.”

“Goodbye, my friend.”

And with the pronounced movement of a sword, the Bifrost was ready. My insides churned as I was catapulted through time and space, a barrage of colors all around me. As I made my journey, I knew things had changed. I knew Steve, or some part of him, was out there saying hello. Maybe looking at the stars from the planet I knew as home would bring me greater peace.

I didn’t know how my words would reach him, how my thoughts would be received by that remnant of him. Even accounting for different constellations, I didn’t know why I saw the star only on Asgard, why I couldn’t have seen it on Earth before. But perhaps these answers were not for me, or indeed anyone, to know.

As I hurtled towards home, my only thoughts were of those I had spoken to him. The last farewell before the next great unknown.

At last, we were free.

 

  


* * *

  


_Even after all we’ve seen, all we’ve been through, there are still some things we simply cannot know. The only thing I can be certain of is that we were never meant to live forever. My day will come someday and perhaps we’ll see each other again. I ache with all my being for it to be true. Until then, I shall see you in dreams. In those we will be free. This is why I find myself longing for night when it is day._

_There’s nothing left for me to say except I know you’ll be with me. Always._

_Goodbye, my love. May we one day meet again._


End file.
